Elegy, elegy, elegy
The words pop out at me, framed by the strokes of...expressionism was it?
Honestly, I don’t know
The minimal art history I was exposed to
Has gone, been erased leaving me the white board
To scrawl something else hastily before-
I wonder why I read it,
Is it perhaps to affirm to myself
That I’m worth something?
No, that can’t be right
I do of course love myself, I have healthy amount of self love
I suppose then, it’s confidence at stake here
...maybe?
That whether I manage to memorize all the terms
Whether I can keep my hands from straying to another tab
That whether I can kick away the ball that is distractions and addictions and every self created villain in my fairytale
Determines who
I am and how
Much I’m worth
Is false
Because
I
Love me I do
I really do
But,
I still have to get out of this rut
I still have to do better
Then, maybe
One day I’ll